


Scenes and Snippets of a Ravager Childhood 2

by OMEGA1979



Series: The misadventures of Peter Udonta [15]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crew as Family, Depression, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Parent Kraglin Obfonteri, Parent Yondu Udonta, Past Rape/Non-con, Tags Contain Spoilers, Yondu Week 2019
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-05-13 06:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMEGA1979/pseuds/OMEGA1979
Summary: So it was Yondu week, and I didn’t know. So am trying to get it together…these will be finished eventually. Promise.It's time for family fluffStandalone. Part 1: Daddies Special Hobby.Peter is FiveStandalone.Part 2: The Worst of Times  Peter is ThreeMini Series.Part 3: Raise Up. Set after "Planting the Seeds of Family" and Peter is FourPart 4. Looking for the Obvious. Yarovesky hides how emotionally damaged he really is, then it all comes to the surface. Peter is fivePart5: Secrets now Unbroken. Yarovesky has kept what he truly is hidden for too long, when Peter is seven, the truth comes outPart 6: The Parting of the Ways. Yarovesky has some explaining to do,  but he just can't say itPart 7: Troks. Chapter One. Yarovesky has to reveal what he and the rest truly are, this is going to be a hard and heartbreaking night for everyonePart 8: Troks. Chapter Two. Finally the truth is revealed, but the reason Yarovesky kept it to himself at the cost of his own sanity is exposed, and nothing will ever be the same for everyone





	1. Daddies Special Hobby

**Author's Note:**

> #Yonduweek2019

 

**So it was Yondu week, and I didn’t know. So am trying to get it together…these will be finished eventually. Promise.**

**But here we go**

**Day 1. Daddies Special Hobby**

 

Being a working Ravager ship, now better maintained and organised it was a surprise to most other Ravager Clans that the Udonta Ravagers were one of the best organised with the cleanest ship and a crew on a decent rotation without losing on any contracts or pay.

That made the Udonta Ravagers more interesting was they had downtime, time to work on themselves and their hobbies and other interests which made them happy.

One this that was already becoming known amongst the Ravagers was that one of them calling himself Jamsean Vonspiers was an extremely talented artist. When he wasn’t at work, he was pouring over canvass and art books and forever sketching as well as helping little Peter Udonta with his sketches.

Everyone on the Elector had a hobby, to Yarovesky’s extensive knife collection and his love of music, Iztel and Proctom read books between their shifts. Everyone had a hobby, but it was his daddy Yondu’s hobby that Peter loved the most.

All on Yondu’s console was his figurines, and collectables, some had always been there, and Peter knew that he wasn’t allowed to touch “daddies toys” even though he wanted too. But he knew that his daddies and the crew were always doing nice things for him and he wanted to do something nice for his daddies.

Also, right now, he knew that his parents were stressed with a mission, and wanted to make it right. He knew that because Yondu was a bit snappy with him, even though Peter knew he didn’t mean to.

But it was when Peter was in the markets when his parents were on the small Xander colony for the next few days, that he saw it and he knew Yondu had to have it.

It looked so rare and different a little plastic creature with orange hair, and it was so different he could just see it on Yondu’s console but didn’t have any units, not enough anyway. He had a unit pot, but he didn’t want his parents to know that he was going through it for them…besides he was a Ravager, well Ravager in training. He was allowed to pickpocket, as long as he didn’t get caught.

Small acts of crime aside, the Udonta family were awesome parents, and that was also known.

In the cesspit of the flea market, with Yarovesky and Horuz taking care of him that day and having a small date of their own off ship, Peter made his approach. He had already told the Ravagers that he needed a distraction, and he had worked it all out for himself. With some help, he was only five of course.

Peter’s first mark was the stunning women, in the crowd, she looked sweet and nice, but she was a criminal. Peter could tell, and he could also tell that she wasn’t nice, and her smile was fake even if her body was pretty. She was walking in the cluster of people looking for her next mark, as Peter with Horuz and Yarovesky watching closely if he failed slid the metal case off the small table, while the vendor wasn’t looking, and no one was looking at a small boy like him and placed it in his pocket.

 

The metal felt heavy, but he decided not to think about it, as he ran to the women and started crying. “Daddy, I want my daddy, I’ve lost my daddies”. Peter began to cry, pushing out fat tears, and reached out his arms to the woman, who with a harsh glare looked down at the boy, but she had no choice but to pick him up

“I’ve lost my daddies” Peter wept into her shoulder, as the lady clearly didn’t know what to do with little kids, there was no soothing, or trying to calm him down, but this was perfect. Momently distracted by Peter crying, he reached back into his pocket, and taking the case, dropped it in her bag, and the women never ever noticed a thing.

Yarovesky who was watching this then made his move.

“Peter, don’t run away like that, we were so worried”. And Peter on cue stretched is arms out, “Daddies”, Peter cried and let Yarovesky take him from the women, who just gave the Ravager a look of disgust.

“If this is your son, then take better care of your little brat” the women snapped as Yarovesky, who wasn’t Peter’s dad was a protective uncle and resisted the urge to belt the women. “I will, thank you”, he said as sincerely as he could muster, while stepping away, and the next part of the plan went into action.

“That woman took that case”, Horuz yelled as hard as he could, pointing into the women, which drew the attention of the rest of the tradesmen as well as several Nova Corps in the areas.

“What the hell”, the guy from the stall practically leapt away from his stand, and over to the women who was yelling at the top of her lungs, using language not suited to be heard amongst children. The Nova Corps began to go through her bag as was their right, and she begun shrieking as the Nova uncovered the case, as well as several other items she had swiped that day.

“I don’t know how they got there, I don’t know” She was still screaming as they led her away in handcuff and Peter using this distraction, run over the gripped the small orange doll, as Horuz and Yarovesky quickly led the five-year-old away.

Back in the S-Ship, both the not really uncles, couldn’t stop telling the five-year-old his pleased they were, and Peter just held the orange haired item in his hands feeling very happy with himself, as the Elector came into view and they successfully docked.

Since this was Peter’s idea, Horuz and Yarovesky made themselves scares and went to the mess hall, while Peter went up to the bridge and to Yondu’s office.

Yondu and Kraglin were looking over the figures, and Yondu was running his hand over his blue face.

“Kraglin, I get that we’re good, but I don’t want to be in this sector, too many Nova for a start…”

“I get that, but they haven’t put in an appearance so far, out scouts have been successful, a few more weeks won’t make a…”

Kraglin’s voice trailed off, as Peter came into the room, and suddenly little Peter felt embarrassed, what is his daddy didn’t like the present.

“Hi, Peter, did you have a good day out”. Kraglin looked over at his small son, looking all concerned.

“What is it Peter, is everything ok?”

This drew the attention from Yondu who finally, looked up from his important work, since he had given permission for Horuz and Yarovesky to take the boy out for the day, under the instruction of “If he gets hurt, both of you die”.

But Peter walked up and took the troll doll out his pocket. “I got this you daddy, I swiped it all by myself, with help. It’s for your console, and it’s just for you”.

Yondu took one look at the doll, then at his son, and enveloped him instantly in a big hug.

“You got this all for me, and you swiped it, I’m so proud of you. I love it,  it’s my new favourite one. Right on my console where everyone can see it”.

Peter just beamed since Yondu was so happy, and explained exactly how it happened, with Horuz and Yarovesky confirming the latter over dinner, proving that Peter wasn’t bullshitting.

It was when later, when Peter was tucked up in bed, that, Yondu turned to Kraglin and held up the back of the doll.

“It says made in China, that’s a country on Terra, he picked up something from his planet without even realising it, shit. This means I’ll have to give it to him someday, I know I have too”.

“Maybe when he finds out”, was all Kraglin could suggest at that moment, as he and Yondu just got closer to each other.

“Yeah, but until then, shit, he stole that for me…daddies little criminal Kraglin, I couldn’t be prouder.”

 

 

**The End**

**Please review, it’s encouraging xx**

 


	2. The Worst of Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a time where my OC Proctom was exhiled by the crew, this comes from one of the worst moments of his life

 

**Yonduweek**

**With it being Yondu week, but focusing on the Ravagers too, though I’d do a flashback to my favourite OC Proctom, at a time when he was exiled by the crew.**

**The Worst of Times**

Proctom woke up in the bunk he shared with Jamsean and Gunnsen and slipped off his bed and into the small shared bathroom. Their beds were closest together since it was common knowledge, they were screwing each other, but Proctom’s was further away, where they never had to see him or acknowledge him.

Most nights, Proctom came back to his quarters to either find them locked or one of them just grabbed him and threw him from the room, swearing at him in the process. Since then he had become very acquainted with the abandoned secondary bridge, it wasn’t like he could ever fight back, or even say anything.

He had abandoned all concept of speaking two years earlier, and only he was spoken to when he was working, and his replied were brief, and then could even earn a decking from another crew member.

He had learned to take it and deserved it, he was in exile, a nothing even though he could barely remember the reason why he had committed the most despicable act a Ravager could commit.

When he was lying there, in the Brig, his mind going over everything, remembering the screaming baby, the knife in his hand and the blood. He still didn’t know why he had done it, he was drunk, he was often drunk back then, getting drunk was easier, the other Ravagers blotted out the pain through booze why should he be any different.

Proctom had no imagination to take away the pain, all he had were memories and the overwhelming self-loathing of being him, a slave, ex-slave. The brand on his arm was meaningless even if he was free, five years with the Ravages and two in exile had taught him that. And he could just leave, but he had nowhere to go.

Proctom looked at himself in the mirror, dark green eyes similar to Jamsean, who was snoring in the next room, and hair which was dark but had thin streaks of blonde, which could be lighter if he ever went out in the sun but didn’t. It was also cut very short, so no one could grab it, but what was left just looked lifeless, Life had sapped all colour from him, and he was just a spectre living on the edge of his own existence.

Even though he was only twenty, he looked and felt older, as pulling his clothes over his scarred body, courtesy of his late master’s whip, he left the room and made his way to the mess hall.

 

At that time of the morning there were only a few Kree crewmembers who were new to the Elector and who did didn’t even look at him, and Iztel the main cook, who just looked up, recognised him, gave him a sneer and looked away. Not that he blamed Iztel for that, he was Peter’s carer when Proctom had attacked the baby, and when he emerged from the Brig learned that Peter was staying forever.

Proctom had to get used to the boy’s constant presence and managed it just by staying out of the babies way, not even talking to him and never being in the same room if he could. None of the crew trusted him, and even though since that day no drop of beer had touched his lips, Proctom wondered if he trusted himself.

Eating alone, since his exile meant that no one would ever speak to him, Proctom was used to the silence, and never questioned it, he deserved everything he got and was still amazed that Yondu didn’t kill him, instead he was being punished with being an unperson, a nothing.

Yondu though he was Captain at times to Proctom felt like a Master, who would never abuse him, but let him know he was a nothing, just by ignoring his presence.

Proctom ate quickly and leaving his plate with Iztel who didn’t give him a second glance, as he who was talking to Yondu, and Proctom heard the tail end of the sentence.

“Look Yondu, I don’t care if you can’t spare the crew, I need a fucking Assistant, it’s hard enough doing this job as it is”

Proctom didn’t hear the reply and just went down to the hanger, and to where his work was, scattered on a large table in a quiet area. Xandarians were social, but he worked along, everyone insisted on that.

He never intended to become any good at maintenance, though he was skilled at other things he had kept hidden and he knew it was too late to bring that up now, especially to Yondu and Kraglin, the latter who had been pissed at him for years and never bother d to hide it.

Getting to work, it was work for crew, he had his own M-Ship on loan, but he hardly ever used since he could fly it, but no one wanted to fly with him. But everyone else’s work, he did that, was never asked, never said no and was never paid, and he never asked for payment.

However, it did make him wonder how much money he did have since he was getting paid for other things, but being unable to read made that impossible, and if any of the crew had ripped him off somewhere, he didn’t blame them.

Proctom just worked for hours, fixing blasters, repairing warp coils for M-Ships, and his hand's grew tired in the process, but he never let up, and just kept working, trying to ignore how wretched he really felt inside.

Sometimes working took him away from all the pain, and someone’s it overwhelmed him, to the point he often slipped away to the airlock and just stood there, fighting the urge to just space himself as Yondu should have done two years earlier. But he knew that Yondu had tightened the codes, so Peter couldn’t have an accident, and that was impossible. he wondered if he just asked Yarovesky, to do it, would he?

Back then, Yarovesky used to keep an eye on Proctom on the slave ship because he was several years younger, but that was then, and this was now. Maybe he would or wouldn’t. Proctom just didn’t know, and even though he knew he could never bring that up.

Putting his tools aside after several hours, Proctom was crossing the decks, when he heard the first sounds of blaster fire and shouting, and instantly backed away, his hand searching for his blaster on instinct before he remembered he didn’t have one. One of the conditions of his exile, he wasn’t to be trusted on the ship, unless he was on a mission.

“Where the hell is that brat”, he heard one voice, and he recognised it as one of the new Kree crew, which was then followed by more blaster fire. Proctom would tell where the Kree were just from their echoing footsteps and was just about to run in the opposite direction, when the sight of little Peter Udonta, came running down the deck.

Proctom caught the fearful look in Peter’s eyes, and though he was running he wasn’t getting far, he was only three after all and Proctom heard the Kree steps getting closer.

Proctom just looked once more, and with no hesitation, ran after the boy.

 

**The End**

**Please review**

 


	3. Raise Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok with it being Yondu week, and I’m way behind. The next set of stories are based on my “core four” OC characters, who are Peter’s awesome uncle types. In these, Peter is four, veering on five, Horuz and Yarovesky are officially together. But something is happening they can’t explain.
> 
> Theme: Rising

**Raise Up**

 

Ever since Peter came into the Ravagers lives, the routine had been installed, the crew had been hooking up, others were coming together as a family, and it was different. However, but no one could explain it, and it never got back to Yondu.

It all started, then Iztel was woken up by Proctom screaming in his sleep, causing Iztel to think that the young lad was having a seizure, until he calmed down, after he had woken up all terrified and sweat encrusted. Proctom described what he had seen in his own mind, it wasn’t something for his past, or perhaps it was, he wasn’t sure.

Hearing the twenty-one-year-old describing what had happened, Iztel just perched on the edge of his bed mused over the statement.

“Sounds like you had a dream, lad.”

“A dream….” Proctom looked confused “What’s a dream?”

Iztel thinking and with his one good hand ran his fingers through his hair and tried to describe it, it was a “Way of the brain processing everything, and there were good dreams, and bad ones were called nightmares.”

For Proctom he just tried to take it in, and just grew confused, he didn’t dream, he knew about them, but dreams required imagination…he didn’t have one of those.

For Iztel he found this statement a bit disconcerting since that made no sense to him, but eventually and it took a few months, and more of his boy becoming more independent, that the dreams grew easier.

Iztel was pleased to see how smart and competent Proctom really was, and it was another reminder of how he should have really treated the boy better before he was cast into exile. He was so used to seeing Ravagers as bastards and was so embittered about losing his position when even he knew he should have been Captain, instead of Yondu and never once considered the mental state of the teenage Ravager who came on board.

Iztel passed on the information to the medics who were observing and the treating the Ravager but didn’t make a big deal out of it but couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

A month later, two other Ravagers, came bursting out of their shared quarters, one with a look of panic and the other trying to calm him down, it had been affecting them both, for weeks, but now it felt like was getting worse.

Going to the mess hall, they searched and found bottles of beer, and threw it down their throats, waiting for the cold liquid to try to refresh their brains.

However, both just felt exhausted, and their minds in turmoil and they tried to process that.

 

“I have no idea what the hell is going on, I think they’re dreams…I’ve heard about them, people have them,” Jamsean said, trying to understand.

“I know that, but we don’t, we don’t have them...why are we having them?”

Neither of them could understand but made a vow to keep this to themselves, and in their haste hadn’t seen Iztel standing in the pantry silently observing the conversation.

However, Iztel, since his job to was be the main cook, keep an eye on Peter and now he had the responsibilities of Proctom, began to observe what was happening.

It was no secret that the four Ravagers when they came on board, were hard workers, took orders, didn’t have much personality of their own, and were quiet. He knew they were recently liberated slaves, but now.

Looking over at Jamsean, when he with no hesitation was drawing at the table, after helping Peter with his sketches, producing beauty and stunning work, and was often seen sitting there with books of the history of art, just marvelling at the works and techniques.

For Jamsean he would never mention, but whatever went through his head, waking up in the night in a cold sweat processing that he was dreaming the unspeakable thing he couldn’t  discuss apart from Gunnsen, he just picked up some paper and pencils and just went to work, drawing and trying to understand, and it had become noticed that he was a lot calmer.

Jamsean didn’t understand what was happening, but inside himself, he felt better. His relationship with Gunnsen was better, and his mate just seemed easier going and social. Even though Jamsean loved his mate with all his heart, he was hesitant at bringing it up too much, as if wherever was happening would stop. They had good days, and bad one but they were getting better, and they just had to focus on that.

The same thing was happening to Yarovesky, normally more of the introverted crew, however looking back, it was almost subtle, even Yondu realised much later on.

Yondu wasn’t stupid, he knew his crew had issues and in hindsight should never have accepted them on, but they were young, hungry and he needed crew, desperation leading to a situation when it was impossible to say no to them.

The others managed to find their groove, but Yarovesky, it was either getting his knife and starting his collection, and perhaps the first hobby he ever had, or the realisation that he was into music.

It had started when Peter had only recently turned five, and the crew had slaughtered a load of Volrats, and the others were in the mess hall, when the stations were tuned into the frequencies from the colony planets.

It was always useful to have them tuned in and since it was Iztel and Proctom in the room for long periods of time it was essential for the younger Ravagers education, when the song came on, and since it sounded sappy, Jamsean sent to change the frequency, and Yarovesky spoke up.

“Don’t change that, I love that song”.

The song was in Darbian, and Yarovesky, just sung along gently, which got the interest of little Peter Jason Udonta, aged only five.

“What does it mean?” he asked and Yarovesky explained.

“It’s an old song, it’s called “Goodbye, forever”, it’s about two people who are separating and can never be together again”. Yarovesky explained, his voice taking on a gentler tone which was remiss most of the time.

“My old master used to play it all the time”, Yarovesky explained, and Peter spoke up again.

“I want to learn Darbian”, Yondu was about to speak up since both he and Kraglin were fluent in the language, when then Peter spoke up again “But Yarovesky, you have to teach me, because you talk so good”

“I know how, I can teach you, shouldn’t be too difficult, it’s very similar to Xandarian”

Peter beamed at this, and Yondu and Kraglin who internally were a little bit miffed since it was something, they both wanted to do, then Yondu chucked to himself, since Yarovesky was putting all the challenging work in, it would make his life easier overall. Not too shabby, being Captain wasn’t an easy job after all.

After that since he still had his drawing lessons, and everything else, Peter learned Darbian with Yarovesky, and picked it up easily, Yarovesky since he was taught things by a nice master, nice in the fact he had worked him hard but never beat him.

He managed to teach Peter the basics, and with songs that Peter translated. It also helped that Yondu and Kraglin who normally read to stories to Peter each night begun to read the same one and just changed the language.

For Yarovesky it was nice to be able to converse with the small boy, who was sitting with him, and it was also nice for the Udonta family to see how settled their son was with their chief navigator and hacker.

But Yarovesky had never seriously considered music at all, until he was in the markets with Proctom, Iztel and Jamsean and little Peter. Yondu and Kraglin were on a mission together, and the others had been sent for supplies, and for Peter to try to expel some energy, and to try to get the others to buy him things. Of which they just placated the child but did give him a few small things. Knowing Yondu and Kraglin’s rule at not letting Peter get spoiled.

It was then that he saw it, just in a table, surrounded by some assorted junk, a bit battered but still in good condition, and in the back of his mind he begun to imagine playing it, strumming the strings into a melody.

The idea shocked him for a moment, he wasn’t known for having imaginations, none of them were, but he found himself compelled to buy the kithara.

It was when he was taking it on the ship, Yondu who was walking down the corridor gave it a second look about his hacker and navigators new toy, but decided not to say anything about it.

Horuz gave him a quizzical look, when Yarovesky brought the stringed instrument into their shared quarters, but in truth, since Horuz hobby was chilling out watching the data stream and playing online games, the fact that his mate, if you could call him that had something better to do, than sharpen his blades over and over again like he was in some type of trance.

There in privacy, Yarovesky, with the information he had gathered, begun to play the instrument, finding the melody, and though he had no one to judge him, he was a fast learner and picked it up quickly.

In the end, after a few months, the crew were used to the sounds of the kithara, and the sight of Yarovesky sitting there, with his eyes closed just humming a melody since he couldn’t sing for shit and looking contented and happy to their surprise.

It was going well for Yarovesky, his relationship with Horuz was feeling settled, they were fighting less, and for the first time in a very long time there was a sense of peace running through him…maybe this was it, maybe this meant…

 

**To be continued.**

**Please review x**


	4. Looking for the Obvious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yonduweek. Subject: Family
> 
> Out of my “core four” OC characters, Yarovesky hides how emotionally damaged he really is, then one hot night it all comes to the surface. Peter is five

 

Yonduweek. Subject: Family

Out of my “core four” OC characters, Yarovesky hides how emotionally damaged he really is, then one hot night it all comes to the surface.

**Looking for the Obvious**

The temperatures on the Elector were never what you would call stellar, it was a Ravager ship held together by spit, effort and at times the combined will of the Ravagers. It always needed upkeep and it was expensive to run.

This was normally Kraglin’s department since he did the figures, but this meant the ship needed a new upgrade, which meant a few days of soaring temperatures.

The crew were used to this, Iztel had already made cold foods and soups since no one was in the mood for anything hot, and there was of course water and beer on constant standby.

The quarters, however, were too hot, which led to doors being left open to try to get some respite from the heat, though they were Ravagers, the corridors were camera-up all the time, and Yondu had made it clear to everyone.

“We steal from everyone, we don’t steal from each other”

Just for a bit of extra security, most of the Ravagers had rigged the doorways so if there were any unwanted visitors, an alarm would sound if it weren’t encoded to the DNA of the occupants.

It was the time of the night if you could call that in space with the Elector heading to their next mission, and the rest of the crew were sleeping.

Yondu and Kraglin were wrapped up in each other’s arms, but several rooms down, Yarovesky’s mind was in turmoil.

“You’re a nothing, you’re a Troks, to hell with our orders, you’re nothing, nothing, nothing.”

Suddenly Yarovesky was a child again, the abuse he faces, the whip marks down his body, nothing, nothing, nothing, the feeling of dread in his chest, the tears he learned to hide, nothing, nothing, nothing, stupid Troks, Troks, Troks.”

Yarovesky woke up with a start, his chest heaving and the sweat running down his body, next to him Horuz who just turned in his sleep snorting gently, while Yarovesky swung his legs over the bed, and just stared at the floor.

He tried to understand everything, his new imagination, his dreams, he couldn’t tell anyone about it, they wouldn’t understand, would ask…he couldn’t tell them.

His mind was in turmoil, and he just looked to the open door and throwing on some clothes left Horuz sleeping.

He didn’t really know where he was going, just kept walking, stopping by the stations Iztel had set up and grabbed a few bottles of beer and some water, before just walking until he found himself on the abandoned but now used as a relaxing place secondary bridge.

Once again all along, Yarovesky just went over to the glass and looked at the stars and his own reflection looking back at him, deep dark eyes and hair, and he noted he looked pale.

Yarovesky just threw the bottles down his neck just to take away what he was feeling inside, the same word over and over again “Troks”, that one word said everything about him, and meant nothing.

It was at these moments he just let his mind wander, at his shitty life and how he had screwed it all up. In all he could think on one good thing, a slave boy he knew, helped rescue and ensured he went to a decent home. He knew Omevic would be about ten now.

Yarovesky hoped he was happily adopted by now, living a good life with his parents and brothers. He had told them that they all were and got no judgement, just sympathy at what they all were, what their new son was, but he wondered if Omevic would ever find out, and would that change how he felt about himself.

Leaning his head against the glass, Yarovesky was just lost in thought, until a small familiar voice suddenly snapped him out of it.

“Yarovesky”, the Navigator turned to see little Peter Udonta in the doorway, still in his pyjamas and holding his precious Fang under his arms. Peter’s hair was sticking up at all angles, and he looked like he had just tumbled out of bed

Even though it was too early for everyone else, Yarovesky just blinked as Peter came into the room.

“It was too hot, and I heard you walking”. The five-year-old explained as he came closer.

“Where are your dad’s?” Yarovesky could only ask, and Peter continued.

“Still in bed, I got up because I can’t sleep, but it’s too hot for cuddles,” Peter said, as he had now reached Yarovesky, and the Ravager guessing Peter was probably thirsty passed him a bottle of water and Pete drank it greedily.

“Could you not sleep?” Peter asked wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, and Yarovesky just mulled over the word, he couldn’t tell Peter about his nightmare, Peter was only five and wouldn’t understand, so he could only state in reply was.

“It’s just too hot to sleep”.

That seemed to satisfy Peter who reached up to be picked up, and for a few minutes, the Ravager just held Peter while he looked out at the stars, then Peter spoke up.

“Did you have a bad dream Yarovesky”,

Yarovesky still being so new to the concept that has dreaming didn’t know how to answer, but in the end, he managed to say to the five-year-old.

“I just had a bad night.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Peter until he spoke up again

“Yarovesky can you sing me that song…you know the one in Darbian?”

Yarovesky didn’t know where this was coming from, but for a moment thought he could see Peter eyes flash a bright green and found himself singing the lyrics of “Goodbye Forever” softly.

Peter just snuggled closer, still holding Fang, it was when Yarovesky got to the end of the song he looked down and realised that Peter had fallen asleep and was dozing gently.

Yarovesky didn’t know what to do, should he take the boy back and wake up his parents, would movement wake up Peter since it was still too early. In the end, he just stood there and found himself whispering the song to the child, who had wrapped his arms around Yarovesky and was holding his closer, a motion which was so full of trust in was slightly unnerving.

After all he had done with his life, this little boy trusted him so completely, and in the end just stared out at the stars, trying to make sense of all of this, until he was disturbed a pair of footsteps coming into the room. He turned just as Kraglin and Yondu walked through the door, both looking stressed, who instantly relaxed when they saw the pair.

“You know, thank god he found you, we woke up and just freaked out,” Kraglin said to Yarovesky and Peter in his slumber reacted to his parent’s voice, and stretched out his arms and Yondu obliged and took the sleeping boy from the Ravager;

“We saw on the scanners, he just followed you down here. Was he sleepwalking or some shit like that?”

“No, no, he just…wanted some company, I think”. Yarovesky just said looking down at the sleeping boy, in his captain arms.

“Yeah, well, thanks for that, much apricated,” Yondu said swiftly, the only feeling of sentiment he would ever admit publicly even though everyone knew he was a total sap for his son.

With that the Udonta family left the room, with Kraglin throwing Yarovesky a look of eternal gratitude, and Yarovesky could only stare back at them, at the gentle way Yondu had with his son and the same with Kraglin. And this was the Captain Yarovesky on some level once expected to be like his old cruel masters, instead of the firm but fair captain that he was.

Though this was something he would never tell Yondu, that much was obvious.

Yarovesky just stood alone for a few more minutes before he was greeted with Horuz coming through the door, and Yarovesky couldn’t stop his heart flipping for a moment, even though that was a sentimental thought and Yarovesky was a sensible bastard.

“Hi, you weren’t in the bed…are you ok?”

 Horuz having only lived with Yarovesky for a few months though they had been sleeping with each other for over a year Horuz was on some level still learning his mates’ quirks, learning that he needed some at times, how often he was distant, and Horuz had learned to just leave him be.

“Yeah, I’m ok”, and to be honest Yarovesky did feel ok, he knew that what he was, what they all were could change everything if he never said it out loud. Iztel would reject Proctom, Jamsean and Gunnsen, it would be a miracle of their marriage survived the truth. And as for Horuz, would he care or would he understand? Or would he reject him like so many others when he found out what being a Troks was?

“Yeah, I’m fine”, he just replied and with no hesitation, since he wasn’t known for the public displays of affection kissed Horuz fiercely and passionately on the lips, and run his hand over the beard he loved so much.

Horuz said nothing but understood and let Yarovesky do the next prompting.

“But I want you to take me back to our quarters and rip my clothes off”, in perhaps just to rescue the situation, all Horuz could do was grab his mate by the hand and pull him out of the door, bitching about “Work, work, work…bloody typical”

**The end and to be continued**

**But also, not the end**

**Because what the hell is a “Troks.”**

**To be revealed soon**

**You know what I’m like**

**Please review**


	5. Secrets now Unbroken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yonduweek. Subject: Modern. Of which all I could do was throw the word into the chapter. Sort of got the days mixed up   
> Yarovesky for years had been harbouring a deep dark secret, that will change everything. When Peter is seven, it all comes tumbling out

 

**Chapter 5. Secrets now Unbroken**

In the close confine of the Elector, there was always going to be some conflict against the established couples on board, normally Yondu and Kraglin since they weren’t hypocrites about this, ensured that couples didn’t work together as much, they had time away from each other, and it normally went smoothly

Both the Captain and First Mate loved each other, that was known, but sometimes the whole living together, working together and raising a child together. Sometimes it was too much, so neither of them gave each other grief when the other slipped away just to have a moment of privacy or under the pretence of checking on their sleeping son, the other walked in the find their mate engrossed in a book, just enjoying some quiet time.

 

When it came to the other coupled members of the crew, Yondu and Kraglin were careful for them not to be working together all the time, familiarity could breed contempt, or distraction on missions and that was shit he just didn’t need in his life.

Most of them just accepted it, but for his Second Mate and Navigator, it was more complex, since most of them were on the bridge all day together, and they had to be just doing their jobs. However, but Kraglin ensured they run different missions off shift, and had time apart throughout the day since he had to do the same to ensure his relationship with Yondu, so why should they be any different?

After four years together, and two of them openly as a couple Horuz and Yarovesky, seemed to have worked out a routine, even though it had been noticed that their lives were so different.

Horuz had grown up in a safe, comfortable environment, with parents who loved and supported him and had only joined the Ravagers because of money issues, and then realised that he loved it and continued his life of criminality with their blessing.

However, Yarovesky, who had been raised as a slave was a world away from love and support like that to the point it felt foreign and strange, and that was something he could never shake off.

Arguments between the pair weren’t new, they typically yelled at each other, blue off some stream and sorted it out later. No different to any other couple, but because Kraglin was walking through the deck, he couldn’t hear the entirety of it, but stepped back to his own quarters, and decided to let it play out as Yarovesky stormed though the corridor, clearly followed by Horuz who had a look on confusion on his face.

“For the love of fucking god, I just told you I fucking love ya, why the hell are you acting like this”. There was a look of fury on Yarovesky’s face which no one could understand.

“Just shut the hell up with that word, you can’t love me. No one can love me, I’m nothing remember…I told you, remember that”.

“I don’t know what the hell you mean, for the love of God, just come back to our quarters so we can talk about this”.

What the hells to about, I’m a Troks, nothing remembers that, nothing. You can’t love me, no one can love us” Yarovesky was on a rant now, and it appeared nothing could hold him back.

“Us, who the fuck is us? What the hell are you talking about?”.

“Do you think Jamsean and Gunnsen will still be together, even though it’s a fucking miracle they still are, do you think Iztel will give a shit about Proctom? No, he won’t, it’s just a fucking lie, all make-believe. No one can love us”.

The conversation was getting nowhere, and Horuz was just getting frustrated. “Why the hell do you do this, ever damn time”, Horuz reached out his arm for his mate only to be shoved into a bulkhead.

“Listen, you prick, no one can love us, get it, no one. Don’t even pretend, because that’s all we fucking do”. Yarovesky said cryptically, and Horuz really didn’t, understand what he was saying. Then both of then realised that several feet away a door was open, and Yarovesky released his grip of Horuz, both faced Kraglin Obfonteri who was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, and a look of confusion on his face.

“I don’t care what you bastards are fighting about, sort it out or just piss off. You ingrates could have woke up Peter.”

The mention of the seven-year-old seemed to have a sobering effect, and Horuz found himself being released from the wall as his mate just stormed off, and Horuz and Kraglin just looked at each other, and Kraglin just sighed and shook his head.

“Look, I don’t care about what you’re fighting about, but just sort your shit out already, it’s getting boring”.

With that, Kraglin slammed the door, and Horuz after debating at what to do, just went back to his own quarters and gave a chance to calm down.

However, unbeknownst to Kraglin, the noise had woken Peter up, and he had stood by his bedroom door overhearing the conversation, with his dad not noticing.  He didn’t like people fighting, but knew that sometimes people did, and slipping back to his bed, he just thought over the words, Yarovesky, Jamsean, Gunnsen and Proctom were Troks, Yarovesky had called them all Troks. What did that mean?

He thought about it a lot, and he didn’t like the sound of it, it just sounded bad and negative, and thought about asking Yarovesky, but had a feeling he wouldn’t like it. He wondered if it had to be with being Xandarian since Peter was now aware that he wasn’t, he still felt like he was. For him, Terra was just a planet, and nothing special even if it was where Meredith was from.

 

Peter just sighed and ran his hand through his spiky blonde, brownish hair, but eventually fell asleep.

The next day, since Peter was a child growing up in space, he still had a routine, and after breakfast, he went with Yondu on his rounds, before his lessons, then later he would have some maintenance training, and he knew he was becoming very good at that.

But he still couldn’t shake off the word “Troks”, and doing his work on his pad, found himself looking hard at Proctom, who was standing next to Iztel, expertly putting dinner together, while talking to the MasterChef casually.

Peter being seven, was now noticing a lot about their relationship, how easy they talked together, how Proctom sounded a lot like Iztel when he spoke, and how they were like a father and son.

“Ok, strew is simmering, I’ve got to be in the armoury…Yondu want me to make some more grenades, didn’t mention the specifics just said, “really offensive”. Probably since we got all that modern equipment a few weeks ago”

“You better not be doing that yourself lad”, intoned Iztel, in a way that even Peter knew the MasterChef would have it out with his dad about it.

“Naa, got Jamsean doing this, I’m just supervising”. Even though he hadn’t had a seizure in ages, all of the crew were aware that it could happen at any time and didn’t give Proctom hassle about his teetotalism or special diet.

With a wave Proctom just left the Mess hall, leaving Peter along with Iztel, and the seven-year-old curiosity overrode him, and he finally spoke up, since Iztel knew everything.

“Iztel, what’s a Troks”

Iztel just looked up from the cooking and thought for a few moments before shrugging.

“I don’t know. How’s it spelt?”

Since Peter wasn’t sure, he knew he couldn’t get any more information, but Iztel, just thought over the word, as Peter continued.

“Yarovesky said he was a Troks, and so were the Vonspiers and Proctom...but you don’t know what that means?”

Iztel just thought for a moment, since this was something Proctom had never discussed with him.

“I don’t know what it means, Peter. But from the sounds, of it, it sounds a bit negative.”

Peter mused over the statement then pipped up “If Proctom was a Troks would you still love him”.

“Of course, I would lo…care about him, no matter what he was”.

Iztel was always careful not to use the word love around Proctom, and if telling Peter, he loved the Xandarian would eventually get back to Proctom. It was no secret he loved the boy, but he was always careful with the word.

Iztel knew a lifetime of abuse had led to Proctom being sensitive about his emotions and knew he never wanted to freak his lad out. So, he showed his affection in his actions but was more cautious with his words.”

 

Peter seemed content with this and just kept on with his drawings since he had done all his lessons for the day. It was later on when the rest of the crew filed into the mess hall for lunch, and Peter got Yarovesky’s attention as he walked in along with Horuz.

“Yarovesky I did this picture just for you.”

This wasn’t unusual, most of the crew had some pictures done by Peter over the years, so Yarovesky took it gently, looked at it, and his stunned silence drew the attention from the rest of the Ravagers as everyone watched the blood drain from his face.

“How could you”, his voice came out in a whisper, and he turned and stormed out of the Mess hall clutching the picture in his left hand, leaving Peter and the rest confused, but Jamsean, Gunnsen and Proctom followed hum closely while Iztel went to have a talk with Peter.

Yarovesky stormed though the decks, anyone looking in his direction would have seen the pissed off look on his face and carefully backed away. But no one told Kraglin this, and as the first mate of the Elector and as he was walking through the corridor, he didn’t see Yarovesky’s fist coming out of the shadows, and punching him squarely on the jaw.

Kraglin slammed back against a bulkhead as the blue blood begin to seep down the corner of his mouth. However, he wasn’t second in command for nothing and managed to block Yarovesky’s second blow before retuning his own punch on Yarovesky’s face.

“You bastard Kraglin, you sack of shit. How could you fucking tell him, how the hell could you, you bastard.

In the struggle, the pair had fallen to the floor, and Kraglin had no fucking clue what happening as the pair traded blow, Yarovesky was getting more irate but Kraglin was more calculating. However, both of them were ruining on pure adrenaline since the Ravagers rushing to the pair and tried to separate them

Jamsean and Proctom tried to pull Yarovesky off Kraglin, while Horuz who was initially confused at what to do, tried to stop the First mate from hitting his partner and to try to make him understand. In the melee, Proctom got involved and tried to pull Kraglin off Yarovesky, only for the First Mate to clip Proctom across the side of the head which flew back and connected with a bulkhead, as Iztel came in and saw what was happening.

“Son”, Iztel examined, his fading eyes catching that image and he rushed to Proctom’s side, whose nose was beginning to bleed, and he looked a bit stunned. “I’m ok, I’m ok”, Proctom managed to get out, aware that he could now fit at any moment.

In the melee of yells, the air was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a low whistling arrow, and a quick flash of red, the Vonspiers, had now managed to hold back Yarovesky, while Horuz was standing between the pair, trying to separate them. As Yondu Udonta stepped into view with his arrow aimed squarely between Yarovesky’s eyes.

 

 

**To be continued.**

**Please review**

**x**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, all will be revealed.   
> be advised, it's a heartbreaking tale


	6. The Parting of the Ways

 

**So here we go, once again a very late Yonudweek chapter, but the theme is Fight, and Yarovesky really can’t deal right now.**

**The Parting of the Ways**

Yondu couldn’t imagine anyone being stupid enough to attack both his partner and First Mate of the Elector only to come down and see the deck in disarray and the Vonspiers and Horus trying to pull Yarovesky back, and Yondu just got enraged.

“Would anyone here, like to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

Yondu’s headpiece cracked with small explosions, which moved his arrow around, and his eyes just narrowed

“Well, what the fuck is happening here”, finally Yarovesky spoke up, not even noticing or not caring about the arrow suspended inches from his face.

“Wey don’t you tell him, Kraglin, why don’t you tell him, unless he already knows, of course, he does. You lied to me Yondu, you total bastard”’ Yarovesky’s ranting were making no sense, and everyone noticed Peter had come into the room, his face ashen at what had transpired.

“Peter did a picture, and Yarovesky went ballistic”, Proctom who had now got to his feet told the captain, as Yondu noticed the large bit of paper lying face down on the ground.

Ignoring the commotion, he went to pick it up to see what the drama was about, looked at it and just frowned, and held up for all to see, which managed to make Yarovesky tense a bit further as if trying to break out the Ravagers holding him back,

To everyone it looked like a simple picture, Peter had drawn Yarovesky, wearing his red Ravager coat which was obvious with his striking dark hair and dark eyes, and it was an image of him smiling. Though with the hand of a child Peter had above the image written the word “Troks” in big letters.

 Yondu looked at the word and just frowned and looked up and addressed Yarovesky.

“What the fuck’s a Troks?”

“You bastard”, yelled Yarovesky tried to wrestle from the others, the arrow now leaning closer to his head, but he still didn’t notice or care.

“You said, it didn’t matter where we were from, you said that you lying sack of shit.”

Yondu just blinked and looked over at Kraglin who had the same look of confusion on his face and everyone noticed that Peter had now arrived on the deck, a look of shock on his own face as the ramifications of what he had done was becoming clear.

Yondu was stuck with what to do, cut Yarovesky down he had that right, and everyone knew it, but Yarovesky was in a relationship with his second mate. If he just killed him, it would lead to a possible mutiny he didn’t need or desire, and if he had the feeling that if he did Peter would carry the guilt for the rest of his life.

“Peter, I want you to go to our quarters and stay there until I tell you to”.

“But Dad,” Peter began to protest, only to be hit with a sharp “Do what I say, Peter.”

Peter looked like he was going to say something but instead closed his mouth and slunk away, while Yondu turned his attention to Yarovesky.

“Would you like to tell me what the hell is going on”. He coldly told his Navigator, who still wore that face of fury.

“Like you don’t know like you don’t sodding know”.

The conversation was going nowhere, and Yondu’s mood of this had evaporated, he didn’t know what Yarovesky was so pissed off, and he was beyond caring, but he had to do something and something to show he still had authority, so in inflicted his sternest voice.

 

“Yarovesky, you will be confined to the brig for the next three days, total solitary confinement, your food will be basic, no visitors…and then when you come out, you can tell us why you are acting like such an asshole”.

Yarovesky just looked in silence, but to make his feelings clear, he just spat in Yondu direction as with a motion to the Vonspiers the Ravagers managed to drag Yarovesky from the deck.

Kraglin pulled back Horuz who looked like he going after him with a small head shake, now wasn’t the time to even think about their relationship.

Instead, Yondu still holding the piece of paper, called the rest to his small office, just to ponder what fresh hell was going on.

The Vonspiers felt conflicted even though Yarovesky had just stopped struggling as they were leading him to the Brig, none of them could fathom why Yarovesky normally the quietest of the slaves they once were had done this. Yarovesky was saying nothing; instead, his eyes were darting around the decks, With the Brig door getting closer, Gunnsen couldn’t keep it quiet any longer and finally said.

 

“Ok, what the fuck is a Troks?”

 

“In response, all they got in return was Yarovesky whispering “I can’t…”. In was a moment both of them could only describe as a blur, Yarovesky twisted his arm, broke free of their grip, and elbowed Gunnsen in the face.

Gunnsen stepped back, as Yarovesky span on his heels and kicks Jamsean in the stomach, sending him to the ground, both managed to get up but Yarovesky’s face was a cold calm fury, as managed to dodge the blows from the men and return the favour.

Even together both of them were big burly Ravagers Yarovesky the leaner of the group used that against them. Knowing the right places to hit, as he sent both into a heap on the ground, both on a semi-conscious state. They were unprepared, but he certainly wasn’t

Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out the small device, and both of them heard him say in an icy voice.

“Activate Freedoms protocol”, before he quickly disappeared and both struggling to their feet, were surprised as the security doors came down in front of them.

Yarovesky began to run, as a few seconds later, the red alert came overhead, and in the confusion knew he had to move quickly.

As this was going on the Vonspiers were getting to their feet and sending Yondu a message and for someone to give an override since they were currently stunned bewildered and trapped on the deck, and none of them could fathom what was going on.

At the same time, in Yondu’s glorified office, Proctom, Iztel, Horuz and the Udonta’s were standing together trying to understand this, and why Yarovesky had gone ballistic.

“Well you live with the guy he must have said something about this”, Yondu gestured to the Ravager one more time since this was getting nowhere.

“He’s never said anything, well he’s said it a few times, all he told me was that it doesn’t mean anything…but he never went into detail, never has. God sake Yondu, I mean trying to talk about his past, I like pulling teeth, he doesn’t do it, and I never ask.”

“Fine if you’re going to be a stupid bastard out this, Proctom”, the younger Ravager flinched slightly as the sound of his name while Iztel not giving a shit that Yondu was the Captain took a step forward, “He said the same thing about you, Troks, you have no idea what it means. You were slaves together; it must mean something?”

“I don’t know, Yondu, it’s something that wasn’t said to me, if it was, I don’t remember it, I was a teenager”. Came the reply

Yondu just backed off, remembering that Priotim could fit at any time, and that was the last thing he wanted. When the sound came over the airways that Yarovesky had legged it, at the same moment the security door, came down separating the bridge from the decks, effectively sealing everyone in.

“What the fuck,” Kraglin said and all of them burst out onto to bridge, Horuz tried to wrestle the ion plate open, while Krlaign who was no slouch in the computer department either, tried to run an override.

“Our systems have been hacked; all powers been diverted from the console”.

“What the hell,” but realisation dawned as this the sound of the Vonspiers came over the channels saying that Yarovesky had scuppered.

The monitors were still working, and all they could do was watch bewildered as Yarovesky walked quickly though the decks, running would have been obvious,

Each time he approached a doorway it closed behind him, Yondu was pissed, but on some level impressed by this, he couldn’t help it, but his eyes still narrowed as he opened a hail.

“Yarovesky, I’m ordering you to step down now”.

It was to Yarovesky credit that he glanced aside, so Yondu knew he was able to hear him, but he still did nothing, which managed to piss Yondu off further.

“I swear to god I’m going to order the crew to shoot if he doesn’t”, which to his own surprise suddenly led to disgusted looks from Horuz, Iztel and Kraglin.

“Yarovesky, listen to me, just stop”. Horuz had gripped the microphone, and everyone heard the act of pleading in his voice, which since he was meant to be the second mate, meant they had full right to take the piss. However, didn’t take the opportunity to do so since Horuz normally pretty passive, just looked concerned as Yoirveky was in the crew deck by now, and was heading into his room.

“He’s going for his bag” muttered Horuz, who explained quickly.

For Yarovesky, he had to keep focused as he reached under his, their bed, the bed he shared with Horuz and pulled out the bag. Horuz had never asked what was in it even though he probably guessed, and threw it over his shoulder, quickly grabbing a few of his favourite and sharpest knives, and left the rest on his bed.

He could do what he liked with them, probably sell them or keep them. Yarovesky mind was in a whirl as he looked over their quarters for the last time, he almost thought he could really make it their own private domicile.

Horuz had tried, but it would always have come down to this. He would never feel content, and finally, Horuz would realise that, realise he had fallen in love with nothing.

Turning away for the last time, not bothering to take any of their pictures they had put up, he grabbed his kithara, in its case, left the room and he quickened his pace and with the confusion since Yondu hadn’t given the order to shoot him down.

Yarovesky made his way down to the hanger, which at that time of day was devoid of the crew and walked over to his M-Ship brought and paid for years earlier, it was his, no one could take it from him, and just walked inside.

On the Bridge, Yondu and Kraglin were desperately trying to do an override while watching this unfold.

“Looks like he put this together years ago, it’s going to take ages unless he manually does it”, muttered Kraglin, as he attempted it once more.

“Yarovesky, please just step down, we can talk about this”.

Horuz had accessed the console in Yarovesky’s M-Ship, it was impossible to break through, but they could just talk, but Yarovesky wasn’t having it. Instead, two messages came through at the same time as the M-Ship hanger door opened into deep space.

Yondu looked at his pad, noticed there was one from Peter which he didn’t open, because it was probably an apology message and he couldn’t be bothered and realised it was the access to Yarovesky account, with all his units drained. “I only took what I earned, never stole from you, never world…in five minutes, everything will go back”.  Which caused Horuz to read aloud his own message, “I’m sorry, I can’t…just don’t hate me”.

With that, the air was filled with Iztel speaking up “Look just let him go, let’s just let him go”.

To this Yondu agreed, all the Ravagers could go at any time, all they had to do was give the word, and Yarovesky had made it clear he didn’t want to be here anymore.

“Fine”, was all he could say, as the group just watched the M-Ship take off into deep space noticed that Yarovesky had masked his trail, so there was no way for pursuit, proving that this plan had been laid years ago. Yarovesky really had thought of everything, though he couldn’t help the look of Horuz’s face since the bastard had really loved Yarovesky after all.

For Yarovesky, watching the Elector disappearing behind him, knowing that he could never be tracked, knowing that he had screwed it all up, knowing that he was finally free from the Ravagers, his feelings, lasted about five minutes before he finally broke down.

He ripped off the leather band from his arms and just looked down, at his slave brand even though his ship was well stocked, he had a fortune in units, he had the freedom but was at a loss at where to go, what to do.

Looking up at his console, he could see the picture of him and Horuz in a tender moment on the M-Ship cockpit and in a fit of confusion just grabbed and threw it behind him. He had thrown in his lot with the Ravagers, but it would come to this, always come to this, he was a Troks, a nothing.

Setting the ship on autopilot to god knows where, all Yarovesky could do was sit there, in a confusion of grief and shame at what he had done.

For a what felt like a good hour, Yarovesky just sat with his head in his hands wondering how the hell he had managed to fuck it up so much, as he glanced over and took the opened bottle of beer that was being offered to him,

Yarovesky still leaning against the console, begun to drink the bottle quickly then froze, and turned slowly, towards the small hand which had held it out to him.

 

“Oh, fucking hell”.

 

**To be concluded, and yes, the next chapter we will finally learn what a Troks is.**

**I mean it this time; the chapter is even going to be called Troks.**

**Please review xx**

 


	7. Troks. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yarovesky after hiding what he and the rest of the Ravagers are for so many years. Now it's time to confess the truth, and the epic fallout that will come. 
> 
> Was split into two chapters due to word length.

 

**Troks**

**Chapter One**

**Theme. Looking back, looking forward.**

 

Yarovesky, could only blink at the sight of little Peter Udonta, just standing there by his console, and noticed that the seven-year-old looked a bit upset;

“What the hell, how the hell did you get here?” Yarovesky strummed out, trying to understand this.

“I came down here, thought you might go to your ship” Peter said meekly since Yarovesky knew the world of shit both of them were now in, “Peter, I left the Elector ages ago, how the hell…why didn’t you tell me”.

“I was going to, and then you came one the ship and looked upset, and then you took off…I didn’t want to upset you more, because you look upset”.

Yarovesky run his face over his hands, trying to digest this while Peter spoke up. “Did we run away from home?”

Yarovesky just exhaled and looked over at the seven-year-old.

“No, that was never my home, and no Peter…god your parents are going to go crazy, shit they’ll be going mental right now. What the hell were you thinking”.

“I don’t know what I was thinking”. Peter confessed to the Ravager, who just looked away.

Yarovesky of course knew of Peter’s psychic powers, everyone did even if Peter didn’t, often he had wondered of anyone had free will or were Peter abilities dictating everyone’s actions? But that was something he would ponder another day

“I don’t want to see you upset, Yarovesky and you were”

That was probably the most underestimated comment of the year, and Yarovesky just thought for a moment, but Peter continued. “I’m sorry I upset you, can I do anything to make it better?”

Yarovesky could only look away, even though he was pissed at Peter for being the catalyst for everting, he was only a child and his face was sincere.

“Strap yourself in Pete, I’m taking you back, your parents must be going insane right now”

“But won’t you be in trouble?”

“Probably, but I don’t care”

 

Peter just took a seat and strapped himself in Yarovesky turned the M-Ship around and headed back though the vastness of space.

“Yarovesky …what is a Troks?”, Peter asked after a short while since he wasn’t used to just silence, to which Yarovesky responded coldly.

“Peter, just say nothing for a while would you”, as the Navigator opening his channels and opened a hail to the Elector. Knowing full well that even though he had scared up, he currently had the child of one of the most dreaded Ravager captains in his possession, and Yondu and Kraglin would be going crazy, but Yarovesky was heading back knowing this could end with the loss of his own life.

At the same time, dozens s of light years away, Yondu Udonta was growing frantic, barking orders at his crew while they desperately searched out in all directions, trying to track down one singular M-Ship, “Where the hell are is it, why haven’t you found it yet?”

Horuz knew that Yarovesky had masked his trail and so did Yondu but he was pissed the moment he had checked his messages to read out “Dad’s I’m on Yarovesky’s M-Ship, think he might come down here. Sorry” and went into panic mode.

Kraglin normally the most passive of the pair, was hastily searching, for a trace of anything. It was no good telling Yondu to calm down, that was impossible, his son, only adopted or otherwise, his family, had disappeared into the vast unknown and had lied to him. He was beyond pissed about this; however, the tension broke as Jamsean looked up.

“Yarovesky’s hailing us”,

“Thank fucking god”, Yondu had to maintain his emotions since he was the Captain but both just sagged with relief, as the screen opened to reveal a pale Yarovesky and Peter just sitting there.

“Don’t you dare say anything Peter, don’t you blood dare, Yarovesky send us your flight plan, we’ll rendezvous with you, and Peter you are in the biggest trouble you ever have been in your entire life. I’m furious with you. Yarovesky, I’ll talk you later”,

Yondu glanced away to acknowledge his Navigator, who could only nod and not even look at any of the Bridge crew Horuz included.

With that the flight coordinates for Yarovesky were sent over and Yondu sent the Elector into that direction. Getting there would take a while, but it did nothing to get rid of the feeling in Yondu’s and Kraglin’s chest at their son’s deception.

Yarovesky in his M-Ship, just flew back, since Peter was being quiet thankfully, as a short while later the Elector came into view, and Peter gulped looking up in the large window to see Yondu standing there, a look of fury on his face and his hands on his hips.

Peter knew he was in trouble, and he was sorry, while Yarovesky just said nothing, he hadn’t said anything while they were flying which make Peter feel worse, at what he had done since he knew Yarovesky’s feelings were hurt and it was his fault.

But Peter had to be brave as the M-Ship docked and the hatch opened, stepping onto the deck, there was Iztel, Proctom, Jamsean and Gunnsen both with bruised faces, Horuz and of course his parents, who didn’t even let Peter open his mouth.

“You are in so much trouble, Peter Jason Udonta, what the hell were you thinking? You deliberately disobeyed me. I told you to go back to our quarters, and what did you do? Sneak away on an M–Ship, what’s the first rule of the ships Peter, come on tell me, you’ve only known all your sorry life?”

Yondu yelled at his son, while Peter just replied in a meek voice “Don’t go on the M-Ships, because they’re not yours”.

“Oh, how good of you to remember, yes because they’re not yours, you need permission from the owner to go on board, which did you get? No, did you do what I told you to do? No…apparently Peter the rules don’t apply to you do they, because what you did was stupid and reckless, you could have been killed out there”.

But I was with Yarovesky”, Peter’s gut was twisting at his dad’s anger and Kraglin, not wanting to play this game interjected.

“Really, and do you know how dangerous it could be out there, the Nova Corps, Kree or anyone else we’ve managed to piss off over the years. You put yourself in danger Peter and you were just lucky that Yarovesky brought you home. Because he didn’t have to do that, he could have just dumped you somewhere”.

“I would never have done that” uttered, Yarovesky causing Kraglin to look over, “Yes I know you wouldn’t, but anyone else could have. Peter You were stupid and reckless, and you are in so much shit right now. we are so disappointed in you; you have no idea”

“I might”.

Yondu who was pacing to get rig pf his seething rage turned on his son and his headpiece grew redder, “Oh really is that is, is that how you’re going to play this. Ok fine, since my own son doesn’t think the rules apply to him, thinks he can disobey the sodding Captain, then perhaps you need a reminder of what we need to follow the rules.

From tomorrow, you will be scrubbing the Elector, I’m, going to have the Ravagers make up a long lost of jobs, all the crap work, all the hard work, and you will do it. Every single one of them. Until you do, there is no excursions, no days out. You forget this is a working ship Peter and it’s about time, you remembered that”.

Peter, who just felt more twisted, just looked away and nodded since he was ashamed of himself, but Yondu wasn’t finished.

Turning to Yarovesky, it was noticed that Yondu still sounded pissed, but there was a different air in his voice, it could have been considerate, but Yondu was a hard bastard and would never admit that.

“Yarovesky, I don’t know, what the fuck just happened, I don’t care. But if you want to go, then that it, you can. Just leave, though if you wanted to leave you could have just asked instead of being a little bitch about it…but you brought Peter home, consider it settled”

Perhaps it was a poor attempt of humour, but Kraglin’s lips twitched for a moment before Yarovesky who was looking away from the others at an invisible spot on the floor, finally said. I need to tell you something”. He then he looked up “All of you, I’m only going to say this once” With that Horuz came over to talk to Yarovesky, but Yondu just decided to leave them to it.

It was a cryptic response, but Yondu just shrugged as he said. “Fine secondary bridge, couple of minutes, someone bring beer, I know we’re going to need it”.

Turning away with his authority, it was only a few minutes later that all of them, were on the once abandoned, but now it had gained a few objects, given the secondary bridge some life.

Yarovesky was standing by the port window drinking a beer, when the others came on, though he was with Horuz, the inches between then could have been the universe, as with everyone settled he finally tuned to the group. The Vonspiers were standing together, Iztel and Proctom were leaning against and table, and Peter was with his parents who just looked confused.

Yarovesky with all eyes om him, just drained the bottle, and turned to the others. “Ok, I never wanted you to know this, but you need to know what a Troks is, be advised, you all going to need a sodding drink for this” and with that Yarovesky cracked open another bottle of beer and begun to tell his story.

 

Several years earlier.

Yarovesky, had hit the deck hard as the sound of the explosions rained all around him, through the acrid smoke h could see the twisted bodies lying on the ground, some his fellow slave but some of his Kree overseers, as the slave ship shook and he struggled to get to his feet, he could tell that they would be boarded but he didn’t know who by.

Tying to ignore the bodies under his feet, he managed to pull up the stairs to the next deck as the decks he had previous been on, was engulfed in flames and there was ta singe of the air of the burning twisted corpses.

Yarovesky tried not to think about that as he thought if there was a place to hide as he heard screams and cries, and then silence.

Whoever was on the ship was perhaps hunting down the slaves, or the masters, or perhaps the masters were doing it themselves because the slaves wouldn’t shut up.

Yarovesky thought about maybe trying to find a ship, or escape on one, when he came across Jamsean and Gunnsen, both of them, were holding their arms which meant they were probably broken somewhere. Because of Yarovesky age, they were looking at him for advice, though both were bleeding and in shock from being tossed around like rag dolls.

“There all dead, on the slave deck, all, the door came down, there was a fire then the door came down…we got out”.

Even with the confusion Yarovesky understood this, both of the slaves were together and had been co-dependent for year, they would have to stay with each other no matter what.

“Ok, get to the forward hold, better shielding…just go”, he said before they could comment, he was one of the older slaves, so he had authority gained from not fucking dying.

Even though he knew if a master caught him, he could be beaten to death, life with that threat had removed the meaning of the word.

Standing at the top pf the deck looking down almost he death, and smoke there was a small pile of small children, and what looked like remains of a bulkhead explosion, meaning that everyone of this deck was probably dead too, turning away, Yarovesky went to take the next flight of stairs ,when he heard a low moan from beneath the pile of dead bodies, and a small hand raising in the air.

Rushing over, Yarovesky pushed, though the dead were not deadweight’s, and managed to yank out the still alive individual, and realised it was Proctom.

The fifteen-year-old, just look stunned and there was a cut on his forehead, his clothes had been burned off from the explosions revealing his previous burned chest and back, and Yarovesky grabbing the clothes off a corpse back, passed it to him.

“Put this on, listen to me, get to the forward hold, just get to it”.

Proctom just look confused, and his eyes were glazed over as if he was in a trance, but even then he still understood orders, master always gave him orders, and blankly he got to his feet and begun to stagger, looking for the forward hold, his feet instinctively knowing where it was, though he was slaying slightly and hadn’t said a single word.

Yarovesky run his hand over his face and got to his feet, trying to figure everything out, he had to find his Master or one of his master’s crew, there were several, but everyone just seemed dead…but then what?

Yarovesky, went up the next deck to find more metal fatigue and twisted debris then more, and then more, it felt like no one else had survived apart from him and the others.

Making his way up to the bridge, there was a scattering of more dead bodies and exploding consoles, and Yarovesky just tried to make sense of everything, he knew how to hack, maybe that could, he could do something.

Seeing this master lying dead with his small padd next to him, Yarovesky felt compelled to pick it up and put it in his pocket, even though he didn’t know why and knew if Master was still alive he would have beaten him for it.

However, Yarovesky, had just reached the console, when a hand grabbed the back of his neck and slammed him face first into a bulk head, which caused him to struggle, as his face begun to bruise from the impact.

Managing to pull himself free, Yarovesky turned to find the hand clamped around his neck, and the pristine white uniform, as the Xandarian hissed at him.

“Fuck me, we’ve got an alive Troks”

 

**To be continued or concluded.**

**You know what I’m like.**

**Please review**

**x**

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok, massive apologies this one of so late, it's dark. Depressing, and a character study of the Ravagers, be advised it's heart-breaking.**

**Troks. Chapter 2**

 

"You know something Peter, we knew who they were, of course, but to us…never seen one up close, but we all knew the Nova Corps was meant to be the good guys".

"I don't remember any of this" Proctom finally said more to himself and Yarovesky just shrugged, "Yeah, probably concussed, you were in a bad way, better really that you don't remember it", the Vonspiers had just sat silently but Yondu noticed that their fingers were gripping each other, since he was unsure of the extent of what they remembered.

However, Yarovesky spoke up again. "The stupid thing was, I actually thought they were there to liberate us", as he picked up his story and continued.

 

**Several years earlier.**

Yarovesky tried to catch his breath, but then the hand released itself, and he took a gulp of air, trying to take in the Nova Cops officer in front of him, he could only have been a few years older , but he was built like a brick shithouse, and since he was in a position of authority, Yarovesky just stepped back, but the Nova officer wasn't finished.

"sodding hell thought all you Troks were dead, well you should be".

Yarovesky didn't understand the word, but since they were Nova and he was a slave, his thought was interrupted by a few more, coming into the area.

"I found three others, found under some shielding, stunned two of them, stupid bastards never saw it coming, the other was already unconscious…wasn't going to waste firing."

Yarovesky just remained quiet as he realised who the Nova Corps was referring to, but he didn't understand, they were Xandarians just like him, and he managed to get out "Are you here to rescue us", almost like the false promise he had nearly been granted a few years earlier. But Nova, well were Nova, they had to help. Instead, the Nova Corps just spat in his face in response, "Are you insane, of course, were fucking not…we don't waste our time on Troks".

The word was unfamiliar that Yarovesky just blinked and said out loud "What's a Troks?" and was met with laughter, from all three of the Nova, before one of them, not the one holding him, another of similar build and height, grew serious.

"Oh my god, you don't know, do you, you really don't know…oh shit, we have to show you, you're going to love this",

Yarovesky found himself being half dragged and half pulled through the bowels of the ship, seeing all the bodies around him, making it clear they were no survivors from this, the Nova and their cruiser had ripped everyone apart, he grew concerned for Jamsean, Proctom and Gunnsen, they had been stunned, but were they alive?

Yarovesky almost on instinct, turned to protest as he was led into the bowels of the ship, slaves weren't allowed down here, it was forbidden, even though everyone else was dead, it was on instinct.

The Nova Corps officer just tightened his grip and forced him down more flights of stairs, further down, until they came to a door which had been blown open by some type of force, maybe an explosion, and Yarovesky was just thrown inside and fell to the floor.

Looking up amidst the debris, his mouth just opened in shock at the sight of the dead infants lying in front of him, strewn about the floor, eyes closed never having taken a breath, the bodies lying, some looked like they were sleeping, but they were all dead and surrounded the shattered tubes which had some type of blue fluid dripping down

Some looked older by about a year, but some, had never formed yet, eyes, limbs never grown, but on their arms, was the same brand on his arm, a permeant marker.

Almost hesitantly, Yarovesky reached out, and touched one, a small baby boy, and it was just cold and looked like it was sleeping.

"Now do you see what you are?" one of the Nova practically spat while Yarovesky who wasn't known for having an imagination just tried to understand but was struggling to.

His, this was this…

"They're all dead", he finally managed to say and received in response.

"Yeah, lucky bastards, better to be dead than be a Troks like you".

Yarovesky still struggled with that word but finally after about a minute just digesting the image, one of the Nova Cops spoke up,

"Come on, we've got to blow this ship up, we have our orders."

Yarovesky still trying to take this all in, suddenly spoke up, almost a whisper, "The others, you have to get then out of here".

The Nova Corps who heard this, just sneered at Yarovesky, "Oh really, and why the fuck should we do that, we were told to blow this ship up, never heard words of survivors and that from Nova Prime herself".

Yarovesky hated the tone in his voice, but he wasn't too proud to beg, "Please, one of them is fifteen, give him a chance at least, I'd do anything".

Yarovesky didn't miss the glance all of the Nova Corps bastards gave each other, followed by a shrug.

"Anything, right, let's get these tossers on board".

With this done, it felt like only minutes as the Nova Corps came to the still unconscious trio, grabbed, dragged and pulled them onto the Nova Scouting Ship.

All three of them were oblivious, though Proctom gave a small moan, as all three of them were dumped in a pile on the floor. With that done and taking off though space, the weight of his master's pad in his pocket.

Yarovesky turned and looked as the ship undocked and began to travel through the starts, watching in silence as his home on and off from the moment he was born, ripped apart in the fabric of space in a kaleidoscope of colour, carrying the hopefully dead bodies of the people he once knew and those children, those babies, that he couldn't make sense off. Yarovesky was feeling overwhelmed and just exhausted and had no idea where there were heading too.

A Nova colony perhaps that's where they would be taken care of, probably, they were slaves, but they were Xandarians too, and that had to count for something.

Yarovesky was almost lost in thought, as he heard footsteps coming into the area, move Nova Corps, all older than him, some by a few years.

"Yeah, this is the one, the Troks we told you about, what do you think?"

"Not too bad, a bit of a runt, but we've been in this shithole of space for a while, let's see what we can do with him".

The words were unfamiliar coming out of their mouths were familiar to Yarovesky, as one of them pulled his blaster and aimed it at the pale young slave.

"Take your fucking clothes off bitch", Yarovesky just blinked at the blaster, then the Nova Corps, all with the same looks of contempt on their faces. Even, after all, he had been through, after all the pain, which was going to happen to him.

"I said, take off your clothes Troks…or if you don't."

The one holding the blaster gestured to the Nova next to him, who stepped over to the pile of still unconscious slaves and grabbed Proctom by the hair, which caused the teenager to give a low moan.

"What about him instead, bit on the young side, but fuck it, he's already out of it."

A sliver of fear went down Yarovesky body at the idea of this, he was a slave, been through it all, didn't even have an imagination or even a conscience, but he could imagine it, the sight of all of them taking it out on Proctom's body, how the fuck did this happen, was happening?.

Yarovesky was athletic, though still on the small side, and stood no chance, and running his hands over his cropped dark hair, knowing it was him or them and he didn't know how they would react, no one ever asked slaves for consent.

Knowing what was going to happen, with the smell of the acrid smoke on his body, and knowing he probably looked like shit, Yarovesky hands found the hem of his top and pulled it off, followed by everything else, in a pile on the ground. Until he stood there as new as the day he was born.

All of the Nova Corps just looked at Yarovesky as they reappear to strip off their own clothes, practically salivating at the idea, while Yarovesky was ordered to get to his knees and obeyed, the metal from the deck feeling cold on his skin. When a Nova Corps officer went behind Yarovesky, one knelt in front, and Yarovesky began to move, wishing all the time that he was dead, as one of them, just hissed in Yarovesky ear, before he started to take it out on his ass.

"Just remember, if you don't do what we say, we'll take it out on them, all of them" and after that Yarovesky just looked on the ground and resigned himself to his fate.

"You're a nothing, you're a Troks, to hell with our orders, you're nothing, nothing, nothing." Yarovesky heard, and just accepted everything that happened next.

 

**Present Day**

"And that's it really, they all took turns, beating me, and hurting me all over again".

Yarovesky broke out of his memories, and just stared at the floor, before he looked up at the rest, Proctom's face was just ashen, and Jamsean and Gunnsen just looked stunned, of course, Yarovesky was hiding the fact, but they all knew that "hurting" meant, to Peter.

He was giving the impression that Yarovesky was being beaten, over and over again, but to the rest, they all knew that three slaves were lying unconscious Yarovesky was being gang-raped.

For Yondu listening to this, he knew he should have stopped Yarovesky at any time, but he knew to get these words out was necessary. Yondu had also suffered in his life and understood everything. How his diligent and hardworking Ravager had been hiding for years how royally fucked up he was.

Peter however just felt terrible, and tears were running down his face, as Yarovesky run his fingertips over his lips.

"It's the worst thing really, and the best part was, I wasn't even that worried about it, not the first time after all. the only thing I was concerned about was that they would take it out on you three".

Jamsean run his hand over his face, never knowing any of this, and just exhaled "Shit", as Yarovesky picked up on his story.

"The worst thing was still after all that, I still hoped they would at least get you to safety…"

 

 

**Several years earlier.**

Yarovesky, felt exhausted as the last of the Nova Corps began to pull his clothes back on, it had happened too many times, his throat was sore and cracked, and his ass, they hadn't bothered with lube, so blood was seeping from his ass along with the dregs of the Nova Corps.

They had all left the room, and given him a moment, and Yarovesky finally was able to retrieve what had fallen out of the Nova Corps jacket as he was fucking him with his mouth and quickly thrust it in his pocket, as the rest of the slavers were coming too.

Blearily all three of them got to their feet, and were swaying slightly, as Yarovesky his mouth still so sore, filled them in by lying his bleeding ass off.

"The Nova Corps picked us up, they're taking us somewhere".

"But where?" Jamsean asked, trying to take this all in, this meant that they were free and none of them knew how to cope with this. Proctom just said nothing, and looked at the floor, just not understanding what was going on.

A few minutes later, with Yarovesky explaining that the ship has been boarded and blew up, and they were the only survivors, the Nova Ship came into view of a planet and entered the atmosphere.

All of the slaves just looked though the port glass, as the ship came down onto a barren patch of land, with a small settlement nearby, it was no place that was decent, more of a place where the dregs of the universe hung out, and Yarovesky knew that.

As the rest stumbled down the gangway as the hatch opened, still not knowing what was going on aside from what Yarovesky had told them, the sun blinding them in the eyes, Yarovesky before he stepped off, turned as one of the Nova Corps, the one who had only an hour earlier ripped through his body made his way to the area.

"So here you are, your new home…or whatever you fall, no one gives a shit really."

He still hadn't realised that the pad he had taken was now in Yarovesky pocket, and the slave wasn't going to voice that, and he just unclenched his hands as the Nova Officer just looked at him, and said in a harsh voice.

"So get the fuck off, and remember you're a Troks, you're a nothing, and no one is ever going to give a shit about you but here" he took a unit chip out of his pocket and threw it on the ground in front of Yarovesky, who just looked at it.

"Consider it payment and remember no one is going to give a shit about you".

Anyone else would have just left the ship and walked away, but Yarovesky not knowing much, knew he was free, and he needed money, so he took the chip and placed it in his pocket, before turning away, and down the slope where the rest were waiting. Yarovesky was determined not to look back, and the hatch slid shut, and the Nova Ship took off, leaving the four of them all alone.

Where they were, in the forsaken shit hole of a place, Yarovesky knew they had to find shelter, Proctom still hadn't spoken more than a few words, and just looked confused, not understand that he was free, he was born in slavery, and now he was free.

Jamsean and Gunnsen still didn't understand and were just looking around, and if just waiting for their Masters to reappear and this was a ruse.

In the end, they found an abandoned shed, and took shelter while Proctom who had passed out once more, just lay sprawled on the ground. Jamsean and Gunnsen just sat together, holding each other, since now they were coming to realise that they were free, and this meant they could be themselves.

Yarovesky just walked, the sun was setting hard, and he found a place on the ground, in the desolate space, he knew he had his units in his pocket, but knew he needed to make it last. For the first time in his life, he had his own money, it was a piss poor compensation as he could still feel and taste the Nova Cops on his body.

Taking a moment, he pulled the master's Pad from out of his pocket, he knew the codes, he was one of the few slaves who could read well and had had a previous master who was kind and taught him.

Accessing, the information, it didn't take him long to find it, and his blue blood run cold at what he read, trying to understand it, the dead babies, what he and what they all were, he put the pad down, and vowed to himself, that he would never tell them. He was a Troks, they all were, and he could deal with it, but the rest. He would never tell them the truth.

 

**Present Day**

"That's the thing isn't it, keeping a secret like that, but I managed it didn't I?"

Yarovesky had lost count of the bottles he had drunk, which were loosening his tongue, as the rest just tried to take it all in.

"I remember that you were gone for hours" Jamsean, finally spoke up, losing himself in his own memories, as Yarovesky described what had happened to Peter, who just looked devastated at this, causing Yarovesky to want to go over and wipe the boy's tears away.

"But the thing is, Peter, you wanted to know what a Troks was, well it's what we all are".

Yarovesky pinched the bridge of his nose, and Yondu hearing this, understanding everything from the dead babies to how they were treated begun to realise everything and Horus hearing about what the man he loved had been though, was now understanding so much and was cursing himself for even attempting to show emotion, now everything made sense.

"Troks, do you remember the first time I said, that word to you Horuz, what did I tell you it meant?"

Horuz looked back to that fateful day, years earlier, and uttered. "You said it didn't mean anything", to which Yarovesky just gave a glib smile, at the absurdity of the situation,

"No, I said it means nothing", Yarovesky took a breath, and everyone noticed how damn tired he sounded.

"We were born at fifteen months old, we were born in tubes and wires attached to us, our names were randomly assigned by a computer program. Our slave brand was put on us before we took out first independent breath".

Yarovesky took a deep break and said the one thing that turned three other Ravagers in the vicinity's blood cold

"And the reason, everything was done to us, is because none of us are real people."

 

**Oh now the truth is out, such a heart breaking tale, since now everyone has to deal with this.**

**To be contunied**

**Please review**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story currently in hiatus, until i finish other stories.  
> I can't go forward until i finish the ones in the past xxx


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